After nearly three years as one of New York’s must-try tasting menus, Joomak Banjum closed its doors in February 2024 due to rising rent. It felt like a premature end to the Michelin-starred restaurant’s story, but for executive chef Jiho Kim, it was just the beginning. The pastry chef-turned-executive chef immediately began looking for the right turn-key space to start his own iteration of Joomak. He found it at 401 West Street, and opened Joomak—without the “Banjum”—on January 29.
Tucked into the second floor of luxury residential hotel Maison Hudson, Joomak is reminiscent of a penthouse suite. The intimate, windowless restaurant offers just 22 table seats, plus five more at the bar and a small patio for warmer months. The energy is softer than Joomak Banjum, which Kim operated with executive pastry chef Kelly Nam and pastry chef Sarah Kang. (The team split after the closure; Nam launched a custom pastry shop consultancy, and Kang opened a Korean wellness restaurant in the old Joomak Banjum space.)
The now-closed Koreatown restaurant was approximately twice the size of Joomak’s new space, with dark slate and Asian wood slat walls. At the West Village Joomak, dewy alabaster lighting and a six-foot fireplace illuminate the silver-leaf ceiling, marble-topped tables and plush lounge chairs upholstered in rose and sea green fabric. The design, more French than Korean, preceded Joomak as a Provençale-style restaurant (that didn’t get off the ground, but fits Kim and his vision well.
“The concept is Cinderella,” Kim, who conjures up eight courses in lieu of pumpkin carriages every night from his pocket-sized kitchen at the tasting menu-only establishment, told Observer.
Fairy tales may seem like a departure from Kim’s origins at Gordon Ramsay Hospitality and his tenure as The Modern’s pastry chef. But the South Korean chef proves he is adept at cultivating a sense of fantasy and fun throughout the tasting menu, which shifts based on seasonality and what quality ingredients look best each week.
The amuse bouche set the tone for the meal; each of the three playful bites is an ode to Big Apple classics. His take on an everything bagel with cream cheese and lox, a product of appetizing shops around the Lower East Side Ashkenazi tenements, was airy and decadent. The “bagel” had a meringue consistency but was seeded and savory. This welcome crunch sandwiched buttery king salmon sashimi. Next was a “smash burger” with otoro, a melty, belly cut of bluefin tuna, and cheese on a delicate wheat bun baked with seaweed. My final and favorite bite was A5 Wagyu tartare and uni, served open-faced, that pulsed a tender smokiness across my palate.
The Golden Osetra Caviar came with an ethereal dill custard. Slivers of cornichons brightened up the crème fraîche, reminding me this was, in fact, a seafood starter, despite the custard’s invitation to feel like I was a silver spoon-fed kid enjoying my dessert first.
Kim knows when to play favorites, too, bringing back some beloved staples like his tiny pretzel croissant from The Modern. Inspired by Kim’s infatuation with the city’s pretzel carts (he enjoys one often), it came with a luscious whole grain mustard that was more sweet than spicy.
Most of the more substantial courses were fish or shellfish. An amadai crudo was tart with shiso French verbena, yuzu and pellets of green apple saturated in their juices for added depth—I finished off the vinegary sauce by spoon. A single scallop, seared golden brown, appeared to rest on a beach with gray-brown pebbles made of smoked dashi panna cotta, shaved truffles and brown butter.
The squab came last, and the meat was rare, succulent and sliced proportionately in two pieces. The crisp crust was well saturated in pastrami seasonings, which the bird is bathed in overnight. A dollop of milky foie gras induced my taste buds into memories of languid European dinners and complemented the jus de volaille and spongy rye rillette. Kim’s shoutouts to Manhattan echoed throughout the meal, but this final entree was the loudest. I mean, is there anything more New York than a young, pastrami-covered pigeon?
The first of two dessert courses was a paper-thin chocolate tower with a consistency more akin to candied brittle, designed to be broken open so the banana pudding and anglaise within poured over everything. It was served with a butterbeer ice cream, a whimsical nod to Harry Potter.
At the meal’s end, a single shumai was presented on a grainy white platter. The fact that I’d been craving coconut sorbet all day, despite the gray February sleet outside—and that I love dumplings—informs my opinion that this was the ideal finale to my Joomak flavor journey. A pressed mango wrapper held the iced coconut treat tight. Topped by rum caviar, the single-bite experience popped with satisfying texture and a tropical taste.
Each of the tasting menu’s 10 dishes (the amuse bouche and a second dessert supplement the eight courses) is served with silver flatware, fish knives, carved wood and custom pottery plates that dance beneath each edible confection and a white porcelain bowl crafted to look like a coral sculpture.
At Joomak, Kim wants every guest to feel like a prince or princess through service, comfort and fare. The front of house team (three of whom are over six feet tall), clad in jackets and ties and all friends from their tenures at Per Se, is jovial and accommodating in a way that made one feel at ease, like the place was theirs—at least until midnight. Chef de cuisine Truman Parsons, formerly of Le Bernardin and Per Se, works alongside Kim and beverage director and sommelier Tani Albert to bring personality and precision to every component of the dinner.
Without drinks or the $200 primarily French wine pairing, an evening at Joomak costs $280 per person or $250 for the vegetarian menu. This is nearly a $100 jump from the $185 nine-course tasting at Joomak Banjum, which joined 11-course and four-course options at $235 and $95, respectively (an option Kim said he was unable to offer due to the kitchen’s limited size). Dining out has become notably more expensive due to inflation, rising rent costs, the price of ingredients and the cost of labor in New York.
“I know this is a really high price point for a restaurant. We’re not trying to make it like, ‘we’re a former Michelin-star restaurant.’ The $280 isn’t coming from my name. It’s about the people, the industry in the U.S., chefs making more money. I want to treat them better. I want to increase the price so I can accommodate everyone better. I pay dishwashers more money. I started there, making minimum wage. This is something, some way, to compensate my team better,” Kim told Observer.
Joomak has risen from the ashes of Joomak Banjum to give its guests an experience of fantastical fine dining. But here, there’s no fairy godmother. It’s Kim, working tirelessly from 9 a.m. until midnight, seven days a week, waking each morning with a desire to express more creativity than he did the night before, treat his clientele well and raise the bar on compensating culinary talent.
A $600 dinner for two (or $1,000 with wine pairings) may be just another Tuesday night or the culmination of months-long savings for a special occasion. For those who do decide to indulge in a night of New York-inspired, Korean-infused confections of scallop, squab and caviar, Kim is ready to make each moment of the meal fit like a glass slipper.
